Wolfshead
by purdys pal
Summary: Michael and all his belongings have gone from the loft, has the burn notice been lifted or has he been kidnapped. What will his friends make of it. Now completed.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I hadn't planned on writing anything else for a little while as I am going into hospital soon for treatment on my back. However last night this just came to me. so I thought I would post it. This story is not as long as the last one.

Chapter one,

5 a.m.

"Right you two, listen carefully, you've not done anything like this before . You need to understand this man is dangerous, they wouldn't be paying us the money they are if this was easy. So you do exactly as I say. You got it?" The speaker was a tough looking man of medium height and build, his hair had once been chestnut brown now it was peppered with grey. His dark eyes were stern with no give in them.

"Shall I make the call?" She was young, in her early twenties her eyes wide her whole posture spoke of nervous energy.

The older man made one finally sweep of the area in the dark, they were in the courtyard the padlock and chain had been easy. Checking that the last of their group was in place hidden in the shadows. Satisfied, he nodded his head, the young woman pressed one on the speed dial of the cell phone she held up close to her face.

"Yeah Ma?" Came the mumbled answer.

The young woman gave a gurgling moan into the phone, and finished off with some raspy breathing. "Ma! I'm on my way." Came the panicked voice on the other end of the phone. She smiled and hung up.

Moments later the door to a loft at the top of a metal staircase burst open and a figure came running down the steps. So intent on juggling a cell phone and the keys to his car he failed to notice anything until the coils from a taser hit him in the back. The man's back arched as he dropped to the floor his body shaking.

The older man stepped forward disengaging the taser, he brought out cable ties. "Everything personal in that apartment remove it." He ordered. "Don't make any mess, get to it." As he spoke he cable tied the man's wrists and ankles. Working quickly before the man had a chance to recover his senses.

The young woman and a man of about the same age ran up the stairs carrying bin liners. By profession they were burglars so they knew their job. Making sure to leave no trace that they had been there they removed everything that a man leaving in a hurry would take. They left the loft with two bin liners each full off clothes, photos, toiletries and weapons.

They loaded the man into a plain white van, his mouth covered in duct tape and a blindfold covering his eyes. Before they left, the older man checked the loft and left the car keys beside the bed and made sure he locked the door taking the keys with him.

If everything went well, if they kept the captive under control until he was collected and his friends believed he had just left of his own accord. They should be rolling in money in the next forty eight hours.

.

10.30 a.m

Fiona stamped up the stairs that led to Michael Westen's loft. He was meant to of met her and a potential client for breakfast. That had been two hours ago. She had ended up making up an excuse for his tardiness and doing the meeting on her own. Once the client had left she had jumped into her car and driven over to see what was causing him to miss a meeting and not answer his phone. He was definitely at home, the black Dodge Charger was in its normal parking spot at the bottom of the stairs. As she reached the landing she got her key out and before going inside she called out "Michael?" He could be touchy about people coming into his home unannounced so it always paid to shout out first.

Getting no reply she strode inside, and looked around. "Michael?" She called out, the was no sign of him, she looked to the stairs leading to the little gallery area where he kept his computer and any paperwork he was working on. "Michael." She called out again. Puzzled,_ maybe he had gone for a run?_ She noticed his bed was unmade, that definitely wasn't normal Michael behaviour. She knew his routine and knew how much of a neat freak he could be. Checking the bathroom, it was empty, completely empty. Her heart began to beat faster, the was a horrible empty pit growing in her stomach. She had lived through this before, frantically she tore through the loft, checking all the drawers and cabinets, the little alcove where he kept his clothes, everything personal was gone.

Her legs felt like rubber and she started to feel light headed. Sinking to the floor, _not again, he wouldn't do it again. After all this time, all they had been through. Not after the way he had fought to stop her leaving._ Her mind kept up a constant barrage of thoughts. _He knew what it did to her last time, he couldn't be that cruel._

She had no idea how long she was there before she pulled herself together. Then another thought hit her and this one nearly floored her a second time. Some one was going to have to tell his mother.

"Sam." Fiona sniffed the word out. "Sam can you come round to Mic- can you come round to the loft." Sam squinted at his phone not sure he was hearing correctly. Fiona sniffing. That just wasn't Fiona.

"What's up Fi?" He asked. He was already switching off his television, taking a final sip of his morning coffee.

"Just get here." She snapped. Hanging up before he could ask more stupid questions.

"Jeez, what's up with her." He said aloud as he got his keys to head out the door.

.

Sam stared at Fiona, listened to what she had to say, and then he had gone around the loft himself to check what she said was correct. All of Michael's personal items were gone. Apart from the unmade bed nothing else was out of place. He couldn't believe it of his friend. Well actually he could, Mikey had been trained to do it. Drop everything, pack up and leave without telling a soul and Mikey had always been one to follow his training. He cursed under his breath, how could Michael leave him to clear up all this mess.

"What about Madeline? Someone has to tell her." Fiona blurted out.

"Shit." Sam groaned, guessing who that someone would be. "Lets hold off before we do anything rash. We don't know for sure what has happened. Let me make a couple of calls see what I can find out."

"What do you think has happened Sam? Why would he go if it wasn't for his damn sacred job. All his clothes and guns are gone, the is no sign of a struggle. We both know if Michael wanted to put up a fight the would at least be blood and probably a couple of bodies left lying around. So we know he left willingly. It has to be the burn notice."

Sam knew that her argument was a good one. Nobody made Michael Westen go some place he didn't want to without a fight. Fiona had lived through one of his disappearing acts before, so she knew how he could leave without giving any hint about his plans. But checking it all out would delay the trip to Madeline's. So he intended on doing the most thorough investigation he could do.

"Fi, the is no good outcome here. Either he has run out on us all and left us to do the dirty work of telling Maddy. Or he has been taken by a professional retrieval squad and he is on his way to some foreign country. Now before we face his mom I think we should at least know what piece of bad news we are giving her."

Fiona stared at him like he was a bug on her shoe. "Do professional retrieval squads normally pack up their targets bags for them?"

"No Fi they do not. But let's not write Mike off just yet. He might not of had a chance to fight back. Go talk to your smuggling contacts see if any of them have been asked to take a large group of men out of the country quietly." It was more to give her something to do, while he made a few calls of his own.

By lunchtime Sam was sick of hearing the same words from every single government department he contacted. Because he did not have the correct clearance and codes he got the standard reply. "We can not confirm or deny that Michael Westen is working for or has ever worked for the US government. Thank you. The buddies, aquaintances he had cultivated over the years were not prepared to break rank and discuss Michael Westen, burnt spy.

In need of a drink he locked up the loft and headed for Carlito's, maybe Fiona had some news.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two,

6 a.m.

"Make it look like his bailed, it'll keep his friends off our backs." Were the last words Michael Westen heard as something hit him on the head and he lost consciousness.

He regained his senses to the feeling of boots resting on his back keeping him still. He was on the floor of a van of some sort. The was a rocking sensation and the hum of an engine.

"Lie still and we won't need to knock you out again." He was told by a gruff voice, the was a slight increase in pressure of the boots on his back.

He tensed up slightly just to test the strength of his bonds and received a not so gentle kick to the side of the head. "Lie still boy, you've already taken one blow to the head I don't know how many more you can take before it effects your value."

He would of liked to find out what that comment meant but his mouth was firmly taped shut. The vehicle was now on a rutted dirt track, or that was Michael's best guess. When it came to a stop he heard a door slide open and for a second felt fresh air before the boots came off his back then the door shut again. He didn't hear another sound, except for another vehicle drive away. He struggled into a sitting position and rested his back against the vehicle side he made an attempt to get his hands in front of him but all he managed to do was hurt his wrists. So he was stuck, no idea where he was, who had him or what they planned to do with him. He had to be in one piece that was the only thing he knew or at least his head had to be in one piece. It wasn't a very settling thought.

They left him alone, his internal clock told him it was for at least a couple of hours. It was getting uncomfortably hot, and he was developing a crushing headache. He recognized the symptoms of the beginning of heat stroke. Locked into a vehicle with the sun beating down from above turning the it into an oven. He kicked out against the side of the van, but he was bare foot and tied in such a way that he could get no leverage.

.

11 a.m.

He could hear voices outside, angry voices. As he listened, he realized this was his chance. Shutting his eyes, he slumped back even more than he already was and started to take shallow and rapid breathes.

"You said don't go near him or talk to him so we did as you said." The door of the van slid open, the air wasn't much cooler outside, hot and humid as most days were in Miami.

"You damned idiots have probably killed him." Michael felt a hand wrap around his bicep and start to drag him out. He went limp and heavy, letting his captor do all the work. "Didn't you think you should of at least checked on him. Come on we need to cool him off and get some fluids into him."

The feeling of cold water dripping over him was total bliss, it came from a shower head. They had carried him into a house and put him into a bath. All the time the older man had been berating the other two. In turn they had pointed out that he had ordered them to stay away from the prisoner.

They had dropped him into a bath tub, cut the cable ties and removed the blind fold and tape from his mouth. The girl had been sent off to get some electrolyte drinks. The younger man to find a fan and dry clothes for the captive.

Keeping up the act of being weaker than he really was, Michael opened his eyes and looked around. A man sat next to the bath holding the shower head over him, allowing cold water to fall over his head and body, he looked up and gave a weak smile. He then went to open his mouth to speak.

"Don't even think about opening your mouth to try and talk. If I hear a single word, the tape goes back on." He continued to spray Michael with the cold water. "In a minute I'll give you some Gatorade, to try and sort out your electrolyte levels. After that I'll sort out a fan and you can rest inside till they come and get you."

Michael shut his mouth without uttering a word, laying back he closed his eyes. He really wanted to know what the hell was going on but one look at the guy with the shower head warned him the threat was real. He didn't want his mouth taped up. He was hoping that he could fool the man long enough for a chance to escape to come up.

.

Mid-day,

They moved him to a bed, letting him put on dry clothes. An electric fan was positioned to blow cool air onto him. The girl turned out to be a young, feminine version of the older man, probably his daughter. She handed him a bottle of a sports drink. He lay back onto a pillow and didn't put up a fight when his wrists were cable tied again. This time in front of him.

"You keep your mouth shut, do as your told and don't try and move I'll treat you fair. You cause me any trouble and I'll let you take your chances back in the van. You hear me? Just nod."

Michael nodded his head slowly. Sinking back even more on the bed wondering how far he could push this weak and sick act.

.

1p.m.

He was alone. The young man who was meant to be watching him, had lost interest in his job and had started watching the young woman cleaning up the mess of water and towels in the bathroom. Lulled by Michael's act he had moved into the hallway to be nearer the bathroom, Michael could hear their hushed conversation. It was nothing of interest to him. More about their upcoming wedding than who was paying them to kidnap an ex spy.

Carefully getting up Michael made his way to the door. His wrists were still tied together but that didn't stop him. Making sure the two lovebirds weren't going to be checking on him any time soon. He then went to the window, one storey up, not a bad drop. A bit of an open space to get over and then the was the van or an old pick up. If he could get into either of them and he would then have to get it started before he was discovered. He looked further a field, and noticed an airboat tied at the edge of the water.

Opening the window as quietly as he could he dropped out landing on his feet he fell into a roll and then back onto his feet. Uninjured the first step of his escape plan completed.


	3. Chapter 3

.

1 p.m.

Madeline stared at her eldest son's two best friends, her blue eyes narrowed as she listened to Fiona explain that they believed Michael's burn notice had been revoked and that he had left. Her hands shook as she pulled a cigarette from the packet and eventually got it to her mouth and then lit up.

"Why wouldn't he tell us?" Madeline asked. With the cigarette lit, she had sat down. Looking from Fiona to Sam and back again.

"It's what he does." Fiona replied her bitter tone drawing a frown from Sam.

"That's unfair Fi, we don't know what his orders were." He tried to soften the blow for Madeline.

"Are you sure that's what happened? It was definitely his job? Not that he's back in prison?" She wanted reassurance, she like everyone else thought he had changed. He had appeared to of given up on getting his old life back. Still with Michael it was always hard to tell what he was thinking.

"As sure as we can be. We're still trying to find out for sure. It's our best guess at the moment. You know he would of told you if he could." Fiona snorted at this last part. He glared at her, was he the only one trying to let Madeline down lightly.

"Huh, he never did before, so why should he start now. Two years," Madeline's voice rose as she stabbed the air with her cigarette. "It was two years before he even sent a card last time." She was becoming angry, now over the initial shock. "Told me and Nate he had to go to D.C and would be back in a day or so." The cigarette was ground out in the ashtray and another one pulled from the packet.

"Did he take the car? The Charger?" Madeline asked, through a fresh cloud of smoke, when Sam shook his head. "Can you bring it round here. I'd like to have it somewhere safe." She was dismissing them.

"Sure thing Maddy." He said kindly. "We'll go now." He felt uncomfortable having to deal with these two women that his best friend had just abandoned. In his long career it struck him that he had done more or less the same thing on several occasions and until now he hadn't seen the consequences. _Still would it of killed Mike to give him a heads up_.

Fiona drove him back to the loft but refused to go back inside. He guessed she probably had her own way of dealing with things. Ways that involved large amounts of explosives or violence. He had noticed on the drive over how her fingers kept flexing around the steering wheel like she was practicing for wrapping them around somebody's neck. It was that and the eerie silence that made him glad to get out of the car.

Heading up the steps to the loft, Sam realized he would have to see Oleg in the next couple of days and then find out what Madeline wanted done with the rest of Michaels belongings. Once inside he picked up the car keys and left. It was only after he drove out of the gates and went back to lock them, two things struck him. One, Michael's cell phone lying on the ground, it would have been out of sight under the car. Two, the chain that normally kept the gates locked was wrapped through one of the bars but the padlock was missing.

Switching the Chargers engine off he went and retrieved the cell phone. The battery was flat, so he changed out the sim card into his own phone. The last call to the phone had been from Madeline's cell. He tried the number and it went to voice mail. He dialled up the house number and Madeline answered immediately.

"Michael!" Sam felt horrible, forgetting it would show on her caller ID as Michaels phone.

"Sorry Maddy it's just me I found one of Michaels old phones was just checking the call log. Say did you call him last night off your cell?"

"No I've mislaid it." She admitted. "why?"

"It might be nothing. Say you've not mislaid anything else have you? Or noticed any strange cars or people watching the house?"

" God no Sam, what's going on?" Now she was worried.

"Honest Maddy I don't know, I promise when I know something I'll call, ok.?"

"You better." She let the threat hang in the air. Then slammed the phone down.

.

2.30 p.m

He rung Fiona. "Get back to the loft I've just found Mike's phone. Someone called him off his mom's cell, I think they may of used it to either force him to go with them or to grab him, we need to go over the whole place again."

After tearing the loft to pieces they headed outside. The padlock had been attacked by bolt croppers, they found it amongst the rubbish from the night club. Moving further afield a search of the local dumpsters revealed three black bin liner's filled with most of Michael's belongings. This started Fiona cursing. Somebody good enough to take Michael down without a fight was somebody that wasn't going to be easy to find or fight. She reached for her phone, she had calls to make.

Sam was happier, while he couldn't get any information on Michael Westen ex-spy. He could get help finding out what vehicles had been in the area throughout the night. The call log on Michael's phone gave the time of the last call as just after five. Which narrowed things down even more. Things were looking up.

"It might of taken us a while Mikey but we're on our way. Hang on in there."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4,

1.30 p.m

Ducking low Michael headed towards the two vehicles, looking through the window of the pick-up he spotted a knife on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Trying the door handle he carefully opened the door grimacing at the creaking noise. Keeping below the door's window he reached over and got the knife. A quick look and he still hadn't been discovered he couldn't believe how well this was going. Holding the knife awkwardly he managed to saw through the cable tie. With his hands free he put the knife into the waistband of his trousers and then turned his attention to hot wiring the pick-up.

"He's gone!" That was the sound of the younger man getting back to his job instead of flirting with his girlfriend, Michael thought as he made the final connection in the wiring. The pick-up sputtered to life but died almost instantly.

"He's at the truck Pa!" This was the girl's voice giving away his position. The blast over head from a shotgun told him they were coming for him. He made one more attempt to start the truck then gave up. Using the vehicles as cover he ran towards the water and the high reeds which would help him hide. Another shotgun blast had him throwing himself forward and out of sight.

"Stop shooting you idiot. You're not going to hit him at that distance." Came the older man's voice. Then louder, "Hey Westen, the is nowhere to go, you're twenty miles from the nearest town, the water is alligator infested and you're still sick. No one gets over heat stroke that fast and it's still at the hottest part of the day. Give up now and I'll go easy on you. Make me come and get you and I'll break your legs."

Michael didn't bother replying, he was to busy cursing and trying to get himself out of the sawgrass that he had mistaken for harmless reeds.

He was now lying prone on the ground with barely any cover, he had a variety of small cuts over most of his body including his bare feet. He watched as the older man, the only one who appeared to have any training giving out orders. He couldn't hear what was being said but it wasn't hard to work out. The two vehicles were moved nearer to the house, and he cursed some more as he watched the hoods being lifted and the spark plugs being removed. So one escape plan was out of the window. He still thought the airboat might be worth a go if he could get to it without being seen. But when he looked over to the farmhouse he could just make out the girl watching from an upstairs window holding some sort of rifle. He dropped his head onto his arms, he had no intention of giving up but he was running out of ideas. He needed to think.

.

2 p.m

He had to do something, he was getting bitten to pieces by insects, and becoming weaker from dehydration and hunger. The girl would spot him if he made any move towards the house. So that left going into the water, with a final look towards the farmhouse he carefully turned to face the river. Michael started crawling very slowly towards the waters edge. If he stayed almost flat on his belly the girl shouldn't be able to see him. Hopefully he could get into the water and swim around behind the airboat, cut it's moorings and float it out of the range of the rifles. He hadn't gone far when he was suddenly showered by water, mud and sawgrass. The ground in front of him had exploded, he lay half stunned wondering what the hell had happened, shaking his head trying to clear the mud and dirt from his ears.

"That's far enough. Move again and I will have you shot." Michael froze, he could see out of the corner of his eye the older man holding a stick of dynamite, the younger one holding a shotgun. He analysed his choices: get blown up, shot up or tied up.

"The knife, toss it away." Michael reached behind his back and threw the knife away. "Cross your legs and put your hands on your head." He did as he was told, but turned his head.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

"No talking, remember that rule." He was told as the older man stepped forward.

The younger man held the shotgun covering the older as he cable tied Michael's wrists behind his back alot tighter than last time. Then he roughly pulled him to his feet. "I'm not going to break your legs, but you've lost all priviledges. Now move." Michael was dragged back to the van, as the back door opened he recieved a stunning blow to the head that made him fall forward into the vehicle. His ankles were then tied together the ties as tight as those on his wrists. The door was slid shut and locked.

"They're a couple of hours out. Until then we'll just have to leave him where he is. I suppose the worse state he's in, the easier it'll be for them to get him to talk." Hearing this, Michael shut his eyes. Who the hell were these people?

.

3.30 p.m

Sam hurried, back to the loft, he had the results from scanning the nearest cctv cameras to Michael's home. He owed his buddy in Miami P.D big time they had footage of a white van in the area at the right time, and had managed to get the registration number. But that had turned into a bust, the plates were stolen. Then his buddy had pulled up a still photo of the driver. Now he had a name and address, the cherry on the cake. The name belonged to an ex army ranger turned bounty hunter. Somebody who would have the skills with help to take down Michael if he was being distracted by a fake call from his mother. He entered the loft to give Fiona the good news and stopped in his tracks.

Fiona had cleaned up the mess they had made earlier and organized Michael's possessions so the loft was back to normal. She was now sat on the bed putting the finishing touches to assembling a rifle. Where had she got two M14 assault rifles from he wasn't go to ask. The was also her own Walther and one of Michael's Glocks sticking out of her handbag.

"You've been busy." He commented. He then saw a box of grenades sitting on the kitchen counter. "Very busy I see."

"So have you, I hope." She replied. She lifted the assembled assault rifle and checked the sights.

"I've gotta name and an address, it's rural about an hour away if we don't dawdle, we'll take a car each and stop when we get nearby, scout the lay of the land, see what we're up against and make a plan."

She nodded and threw the assault rifle at him. "I've more ammo downstairs in my car, I'll follow you. Grab the grenades." This is what he liked about Fiona, once the was a plan she was all business.

"Okey dokey then." He held the door open for her to go through, picked up the box off the counter, then locked up.

.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5,

3 p.m,

Michael had shifted himself around in the van, from the sound of it they were going to leave him alone. That worked for him, moving as best he could he eventually found a piece of metal sticking out, it was only small but it was sharp, he started working on breaking the ties around his wrists. It was slow work but he got them free, his wrists were now swollen and bleeding quite freely from not only catching the skin on metal but the constant rubbing of the ties as he sliced through them. He ignored the pain and started to try and free his ankles.

It took him over an hour to get free, by then his ankles were in a similar condition to his wrists, swollen and scraped. He knew if he didn't get himself out soon he would never make it. With the heat and how hard he had been working he should of been sweating but he wasn't. He rested for a moment his back against the door. He could hear voices, turning his head so he could hear better.

"Pa, you could see the van was moving? you do know his probably got free?" The young woman had come onto the porch, where her father sat on guard duty.

"Yeah, but your uncle'll be here soon. We'll let him and his men deal with him."

"He really that dangerous?" She looked at the van, curious about the man inside.

"That's what I was told, keep him tied up, don't talk to him and if he gets loose shoot him somewhere that won't kill 'im."

"What did he do? I mean he's not your normal bounty is he?"

"He's getting us a lotta money that's all that matters."

Michael spoke. "You a bounty hunter?"

"Who put out the contract? Come on, what can it hurt letting me know the name?" He tried again, still no response.

"Did they tell you what sort of work I used to do? You want money I've a big bank account." He made a play for their greed. Still no response.

"My friends are going to be looking for me. Wouldn't it be better if you let me pay you off. If you're a bounty hunter in Miami you must of heard of Fiona Glenanne, she's going to be looking for you. Whatever they're paying you, is it worth that kind of trouble?"

"Your friends think you've left town. We cleaned out your loft. The was no signs of a struggle. You're on your own. I was told if you got a chance you'd try and bribe us, but you don't have any money, and your friends ain't looking for you. " The man's tone turned angry. "So shut up."

" You sure_ they've_ got the money to pay you?" As he was speaking he was trying to work his fingers under the internal panel of the door, to pull it away enough to reach the locking mechanism.

"I'm sure. In fact you're going to finish being my problem in the next few minutes. Honey" He raised his voice on the last word. "Get Brett, Your uncle has just turned up."

Michael could hear the sounds of a couple of cars pulling up, he knew his chances of getting away were becoming slimmer. It didn't stop him trying to get to the door lock.

"He give you any trouble." This was a new voice.

"Plenty, he nearly got away, we ended up tying him up and throwing him back into the van, but I think he's loose in there."

"Anyone hurt?"

"He's gotta load of cuts all over, fool dived into a patch of sawgrass. Plus he hasn't eaten anything all day and the last drink he had was this morning. So he ain't at his best."

"Shit. Well we better get him out and cleaned up." This last statement caused Michael to stop what he was doing, if they were coming in that changed his tactics. He was fairly certain the act he used last time wasn't going to work. The only thing he did know was that they needed him alive, if he could get hold of a gun.

The was a hard bang on the side of the van. "I know you're listening, I'm gonna open the door. When I do you're going to come out with your hands on your head. You hear me?"

"I hear you." Michael replied. Moving away from the door.

"Don't try anything stupid, the is eight of us out here all armed." The door was unlocked and swung open, Michael heard the clicks of guns being cocked.

"Come on out, slowly, hands on your head." Came the order.

As soon as he looked outside he realized grabbing a gun and shooting his way clear was not going to happen. Apart from the two he now knew as Quinn and Brett, the was six others all wearing bullet proof vests and holding assault rifles. Non of them were standing close enough for him to get to. He placed his hands on his head and climbed outside.

"Move forward." He walked forward as ordered. He was now surrounded. "stand still." He felt a gun in the back of his neck, and then a belt going around his waist followed by one of the new team moving in front of him, his hands were pulled down and into hand cuffs then shackles went round his ankles. Once he was secure the gun moved from his neck and the man who had done the securing stepped back. He stood swaying ever so slightly.

"Christ you're a mess. Lucky for you I thought the might be some casualties and brought a med kit." The speaker was younger than Quinn, about Michael's age, he had the same chestnut brown hair as the older man but it was cropped short. He looked over to one of the others. "Get the kit outta the car." When the man moved, he motioned with his hand to two others. "Get him inside, and secure him to a chair." Michael was man handled up the steps and into the house.

"Honey, you got dinner cooking?"

"I've got a big pot of chilli cooking and I put the coffee on a few minutes ago, Uncle Pete." She answered as Michael was brought passed her.

"Good girl, Brett you help her serve up in a few minutes." As they went to walk inside. "Tony stay out here on guard. I'll get food sent out." Tony turned and took up guard duty.

"You think that's necessary?" Quinn asked.

"Can't be too careful." Was the response.

Inside Michael was pushed down onto a wooden high backed chair, the belt around his waist was undone and then refastened after it had been threaded through one back supports on the chair. The med kit was dropped on the table in front of him. He watched as his arm was washed down with antiseptic wipes and grimaced as a cannula was pushed into a vein. Two lines were attached and two bags of fluid were now dripping into his viens. "Anti-biotics and saline." The medic told him.

"Thanks." Michael replied, resting his head back against the chair. He watched through half open eyes the preparations for the meal about to be served. Brett hesitated in front of Michael, looking to the man in charge.

"Nope, not til the meds have finished." While Brett moved on, the man turned his attention to Michael. "We don't want any more trouble from you. Tomorrow we're gonna take you to meet the man whose paid a lot of money to get his hands on you. He told me all about your skills, so don't be fooled into thinking I won't shoot you if you try anything. I know exactly what you're capable of."

"So who wants a meeting?" He was feeling tired now, fighting to stay awake. He wondered if it was just his body craving rest or if the was something else in the meds.

"He wants it to be a surprise." Was the reply, the man moved his chair around as Honey brought over a plate of chilli and a mug of coffee.

They left him sat in the chair, when the saline bag ran out another was hooked up, but apart from that he was ignored. Except from the man sat across the room with his rifle aimed straight at him.

.

5.30 p.m,

Sam pulled off the main road onto a dirt track, as soon as he saw a big enough gap he pulled up and watched Fiona stop behind him. They both got out and started putting on bullet proof vests.

"Fi, you know he might not be here, we're only guessing that van had something to do with Michael." Sam had seen Michael when Fiona had been in danger a couple of times now and knew how scary he could get. Fiona though was in a class of her own, he just hoped he could retain some control over the situation.

She didn't answer straight away she was busy settling the M14 strap into a comfortable position, she then placed her and Michael's hand guns into her waist band.

"I know that Sam, but nobody ever said being prepared was a bad thing. Hand me a couple of those grenades, and come and get more ammunition. I've got plenty." She strapped a large hunting knife in a sheath to her leg.

He shook his head at her but handed her three of the grenades and delved into the trunk for clips of 9mm rounds. He noticed the was several different boxes all with the lids shut. He wondered what else she had brought with her.

"Righty then, lets go find Mike." They set off walking parallel to the track, ready to duck undercover if anybody came along. When they saw the house they dropped down to study the lay of the land. There was the white van they had been looking for, next to it a pick up truck and two large SUV's with blacked out windows slightly off to one side.

"Definitely the right place." Sam commented.

He was staring at the man in black combat gear, wearing a bullet proof vest and carrying a similar assault rifle to their own. Fiona studied the man for a moment through the scope attached to her rifle, then checked out the rest of the area.

"It's too open we're going to have to wait for it to get dark then try and get a closer look." She said, not taking her eye away from the scope. If she was going to have to cross the ground in the dark she wanted to have a good look at it in daylight.

.

A/N: I'm in hospital tomorrow, and it will be around a week before I can update. Hope don't mind the wait. Thank you for reading and for your reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Been home from hospital for a few days now, still not doing much. But it's early days. So here's the next installment.

Chapter 6,

10. p.m,

It was dark outside, Michael had been dozing on and off for hours. His body recovering from the ordeals of the day. Earlier in the evening the cannula had been removed and he had been given a small meal. Afterwards he had fallen back into a restless sleep, each time he opened his eyes the was an armed man staring back at him. When he started to become fully awake he sought to hide it by keeping his eyes half shut as he looked around. The was always at least one of them watching him, a couple of them were asleep, probably the night watch. He moved his head round slightly to check out another part of the room. So far seeing nothing that could help him. This new group were professionals, so why had the the extraction team been amateurs? It was one of the many questions that he had no answer.

"Good, you're awake." It was the team's leader, Pete. "Stop playing games. I know you're awake." He emphasized the statement by kicking Michael's ankle as he moved a chair round in front of him.

Michael opened his eyes and gave Pete a big friendly smile. "Don't try that on me either, it won't work. You can't buy, or charm your way out of this." Pete sat down. "I wanna make sure you understand what the situation. You're restraints are government issue. All my team are ex military, so you work out your chances of getting away. If you behave yourself, you get food and water, and trips to the bathroom. Then tomorrow like I said before, you get handed over to the man who is going to pay us alot of money."

"So what's in it for me?" Michael asked. His eyes checking out the positions of the doors and windows. Where they had their weapons stacked. The position of the guards. Anything that might help him when he saw a chance to escape.

"You cause any trouble, I'll shoot you in the foot." He placed the barrel of his rifle against Michael's bare foot. To make his point. "It won't kill you but it'll cripple you." He pushed down for a second, drawing a wince from Michael. "So, in a minute a couple of my men are going to take you upstairs let you get cleaned up before we lock down for the night. Do we have an understanding?"

"Sure." Michael replied. For the time being he didn't see he had much choice.

Outside of the bathroom he was made to wait while one of his guards gave the other his weapons then, the now unarmed guard pushed him into the small bathroom. One of the handcuffs was undone and he was told to get on with whatever he had to do. Once he was done the handcuff went back on and he was taken back downstairs. He was pushed back into the chair and strapped in place like before. He stiffened as his left arm was grabbed and held still, he could only watch as the medic found a vein and a needle went in.

"It's a sort of sedative, so we can all sleep easier." The medic told him as he withdrew the needle. "It'll kick in soon, don't try and fight it." A few minutes later Michael's head fell forward and his body slumped.

The medic knelt in front of Michael and lifted an eyelid, satisfied. He looked up, "Right, it should be a quiet night now."

"Go get the bed rolls out of the cars and then we'll lock down the whole place." Pete told the others.

.

11 p.m

Fiona had kept a watch through her scope until it was too dark to see anything. Once they were sure nobody was going to be out scouting the perimeter, she removed most of her weapons keeping just the hand guns and her knife.

"This is just a scouting mission Fi, even if you see Michael don't go in alone. I mean it, even if he is hurt." Sam hoped she was listening to him. "I'm giving you half an hour, put a tracker on the SUVs that's your main task. If you're not back then I'm gonna set off a flare."

She looked at him and smiled, he could just make out her face in the dim light of a shielded torch. "It's ok Sam, I'm listening."

He watched her set off moving silently, her figure soon disappearing in the darkness. She dropped closer to the ground as she got near to the house. The was a guard on the porch, she couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. At the vehicles she felt around the rear bumpers and set the trackers in place. Backing away, she then made her way round to the side of the property looking for a good view of how many people were in the house and hopefully get a look at Michael.

At a side window she risked peering inside, the lights were dim, the was two men asleep on the sofas, both in black trousers and T shirts, at a table another one dressed in the same type of clothing sat talking with three others in civlian dress two men and a woman. Altering her position slightly she could see further into the room, spotting a man with a rifle pointing at a figure slumped in a chair. "Michael." She breathed the name willing him to look up and see her face. She watched with baited breath but was disappointed he never moved. Sighing she checked her watch, it was time to head back before Sam started setting off flares.

"Put your hands on the window!" Came the order followed by the touch of a gun barrel on the neck. Fiona froze in place weighing up her options. She placed her hands onto the pane of glass, her legs were kicked further apart then she felt her guns and knife being thrown to the floor.

"Hands behind your back." Handcuffs were clicked into place. Then she was dragged into the house.

"Fiona Glenanne. Nice of you to join us. Is Sam Axe with you?" She guessed this was the man in charge. After a cursory glance at him. She turned her attention to Michael. Who still hadn't moved.

"He can't help you, at the moment he can't even help himself. Where is Sam Axe?"

"Find him yourself." She answered defiantly.

"Get her sat down and gagged, for now I don't want Westen to know we've got her. Honey you go with them, you'll have to watch her." Pete ordered. "Then check the vehicles, she was up to something and Axe must be out there somewhere so take care." They took Fiona upstairs with Honey following. Once she was sat down and gagged they left her with her guard.

While the two guards had taken the Glenanne woman upstairs, the other two who had been sleeping were setting their bullet proof vests in place and checking their weapons. Once the other two came downstairs they headed for the door. As the first man went through the door the sky was lit up, and all hell was let loose.

.

11.30 p.m

Sam Axe gave Fiona an extra five minutes before setting off the flare, he had covered his eyes for the initial burst of light and then quickly looked and gauged the situation. Fiona was no where in sight so they must of captured her, he took aim with the M14 and opened fire. He took aim at the man in the door way knocking him back inside. He fired at all the vehicles and at anyone who was stupid enough to show their face. As the flare died out he pulled the pin on one grenade throwing out into the clearing to keep pursuers at bay. Then he took off as fast as he could back to the cars. Fiona's car held most of the weapons so he quickly got the Grenades out of his and then took off in Fiona's Hyundai. He hated leaving his car but the was no choice. He had slowed them down now he needed to get help.

Midnight,

Sam drove up onto the main road travelling just far enough that if the group in the house came after him, it would take them a while to find him. He was fairly certain he would hear them coming as, while Fiona was watching the house he had been laying traps. He had laced the track and some of the surrounding land with trip wires attached to grenades. It might not stop trained men in daylight but it would defintely slow them down in the dark. He had actually quite enjoyed it, it had been a long time since he had last used these particular skills. Fiona and Michael tended to take care of any bombmaking and booby traps that were needed nowadays. He was pretty sure he had stopped them moving Michael to a new location, and hopefully if Fiona had been taken alive they would try to use her as a hostage. He had made sure they had no transport of their own and if they tried to get into his car they would get a nasty shock from that too.

He pulled off the road and parked under the lights of a service station to make a call he needed help. He got out Fiona's cell phone and scrolled down to the number he wanted.

6 a.m

Sam Axe wanted to pull his hair out, or maybe pull his ears off. When he had made the call he knew he was going to end up regretting it. First, he had gone through an interrogation explaining why he was using Fiona's cell phone, then he had to explain as much as he could about what had happened to Mikey. Then lastly he had to calm down the over excitable arms dealer and tell him to bring whatever he thought best for attacking a house full off armed men. Now the man sat next to him in Fiona's car while his body guard sat in the double cab pick up truck they had turned up in.

"Seymour!" Sam shouted over the man's excited chatter. "We need to get back to the house. Fi could be looking for us. I've told you the whole story, twice. I've looked at what you've brought with you, and it's all great so lets get going, ok buddy."

How Michael had not shot this man during their meetings Sam was at a loss. He finally managed to talk him into getting back into his own vehicle and follow him back to the house so they could make an attempt to rescue Fi and Mike. He vowed he would, after several very large drinks, cultivate his own arms dealer contacts when they got back to Miami, he had got lazy relying on Fiona for weapons, and this is what happened when she wasn't about.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven,

5 a.m,

The loud bang shook up everyone in the house, Pete and the remaining members of his team rushed towards the windows, taking care not to become targets. Quinn stood motionless just in sight on the track that led up to the main road. The was no sign of the other man that had been with him. They had gone to scout around, to see if Sam Axe was still out there. The missing man had been Pete's 2nd in command, he had been blown to pieces when he had failed to spot a trip wire in the early dawn light. Quinn was now backtracking out of the area expecting to be cut down. When he got back to the house he was out of breath and drenched in sweat.

"The are trip wires all over the place. We need to go out there in daylight with snipers ready to give covering fire." Quinn reported. "It'll take ages to clear a safe way out. Unless you want to try going across country."

"Three god damn men down, and we don't even know whose out there." Pete snarled. Looking for a target to vent his rage.

.

_The explosion had sunk through Michael's drug induced stupor, he could hear voices, in particular one voice it sounded angry. He couldn't make out the words. He tried to open his eyes but the lids seemed stuck. His head swung to the side, he felt a blow to his cheek but he didn't register any pain._

"Wake up Westen, come on damn it." Pete slapped him a second time. He turned his head to the medic who had been up all night treating the wounded. "What the hell did you give him?"

"I gave him what you told me to. You'll have to give him longer to come round." It wasn't only Pete who was feeling stressed.

"Great." Pete snapped. He turned his attention to the victims of Sam's earlier assault. "So how are they doing?"

"Doug has a gut wound I've made him comfortable, but if he doesn't get to a hospital soon he'll die. Lee has a shoulder wound and a concussion. Bullet hit him on the joint he'll be lucky if he gets to keep his arm. Oh, he busted his head open when he fell but all things considered that the least of his problems."

"Ok keep an eye on them. I better make a call." Pete was doing his best to bring everything under control. He looked at the prisoner who was still slumped unmoving in the chair. He got out his phone. He was beginning to realize why the was no other takers for this job, and why the pay was so high.

_The indistinct voice was becoming clearer, he could make out words now. Even though the words were distorted and jumbled he was beginning to understand something had happened._

"We're not going to make the deadline. We've been hit, and can't get out." Pete was talking.

"Yeah the is room for a helicopter, I can secure the area. I still want the money Two mill, cash on delivery."

"Great, by mid-day, we'll keep up our end. The place will be secure." Pete finished the call. Turned and kicked the chair that Michael was sat on over.

_Michael was confused, what had happened? If he could just open his eyes. Then his whole body was thrown to the side and he hit the floor with a thud. His eyes fluttered open as the chair he was attached to was pulled back upright._

"You awake now." Pete grabbed hold of Michael's hair and shook his head. Michael groaned.

"Yeah." The word was slurred. He tried to look around. But he could barely hold his head up.

"Hey concentrate on me, Westen. We've got things to do."

"Maybe you shouldn't of drugged me then." Michael snapped, his head felt awful, his mouth was dry and his stomach was turning over. He glanced around something had definitely happened. The windows, front wall and door all showed signs of gunfire. The was blood as well, quite a lot of blood.

"Temper, Westen." Pete warned. "A couple of my men are going to take you upstairs." He turned his head to the men waiting for their orders. "Put him in one of the bedrooms. Blindfold him and gag him. Brett'll keep watch. As soon as it's light we need to clear the area."

He felt them release him from the chair, then he was hauled upright. Dizziness sent him straight back down his legs shaking. "Yeah that stuff we use is a real bitch when you come round from it, trust me through, you'll feel a hell of a lot worse if you don't get up now." He was pulled upright again, this time managing to keep to his feet. He was held up by a man on each side as a wave of dizziness made him nauseous.

Pete noticed Michael's complexion turn pale. "Maybe take him to the bathroom first."

He was half dragged, half carried up the stairs, at the bathroom they dropped him down holding his head over the toilet. He gagged and then threw up, his head was spinning and his stomach felt like it was tied in a knot. When he had finished he was pulled back to his feet and allowed to wash out his mouth.

.

Fiona was frustrated, within half an hour of being left alone with her guard, Honey, She had picked the lock on the handcuffs holding her hands behind her back. She could hear the men downstairs, they were on full alert now after Sam's attack. The girl paced about the room, but never came close enough that Fiona could take her down without any noise. Then came the expolosion, she knew exactly what had happened, someone had found one of Sam's trip wires. She watched as Honey jumped, then rushed to the window to see what had happened. She heard more shouting from downstairs guessing they were all pretty rattled now.

The door was opened slightly and Honey stood whispering to whoever was outside. Through the door Fiona heard the sound of someone, she guessed was Michael being dragged along the corridor. The was the sound of the tiolet flushing and then the figure at the door disappeared and Honey shut the bedroom door.

"Your friend Axe just killed a good friend of ours." She spat the words out and stepped in to hit the bound captive. Fiona however was not bound, in fact she had been waiting for this moment, and Honey went down knocked out by a punch to the temple. Fiona left her handcuffed, gagged, in a wardrobe with a chair wedged under the handle so she couldn't get out.

.

Michael was dumped onto another chair this time in the same room he orginally escaped from. A rope was passed round the back of the chair and round his elbows pulling them back. Tape then went across his mouth and a bag was dropped over his head.

"Brett you need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts chucking up you're gonna have to get that tape off his mouth quick. So no disappearing down the corridor to your girlfriend ok." The medic told the young man.

"I know what I'm doing, I'm not a fool." The young man snapped. The door shut and he was alone with the prisoner.

.

Michael had sunk into semi conscious state when he the bag was dragged off his head and the tape ripped from his mouth.

"It's ok, I'll have you loose in a minute." Fiona was undoing the ropes and then setting about the restraints on his wrists and ankles. She looked up when Michael hadn't answered her.

"Michael, come on. Pull yourself together we've got to get out of here now." She grabbed his head and looked into his unfocussed eyes. She slapped him. "Damn it Michael, focus." She shook him, as he was free of his bonds he almost fell onto her. "What the hell?"

"Fi?" He questioned. "What are you doing here?" He squinted his eyes trying to see her clearly.

"I've come to get you. Can you stand up?" She was concerned, he was so far out of it. How were they going to get across the open ground if he couldn't stand up.

"The is a Helicopter coming for me you have to let Sam know." He was making no effort to move.

She took a firm hold of his chin, her fingers digging into his skin. "Michael, we have to get out of here. I can't carry you, you're going to have to help me. Now try and stand up." She let go of his chin and grabbed his arm. "Now Michael." She ordered, and he rose up, staggering slightly he lent against her.

"Fi, you need to get out of here." He felt like he was standing on a boat during a storm. Both the floor and walls seemed to be moving.

She ignored his words. "Move your feet, Michael" She managed to get him to the door. He looked down at Brett's body sprawled on the floor.

"What did you do?" He asked.

"I hit him. Now wait here while I check the way out." She pushed him against the wall. "Don't sit down." She ordered.

She tested each step before she put her weight on to it. At the bottom she sunk down as low as she could. the was three men in the room, one checking over the wounded, both who looked in serious condition. Two others talking in low voices, she strained to hear what they were saying. But they were two far away, another quick look told her she couldn't reach any weapons without being seen. The was no way they could get out this way. She turned and went back upstairs, they were going to have to find another way.

Fiona reached the top of the stairs, Michael had disappeared. She moved along the corridor her body tense. She heard a noise from the room where Michael had been held. Inside she discovered Michael on the floor, on his hands and knees. He had some how found the strength to fit the shackles that had held him, onto Brett. He had also managed to rip up a pillowcase to make a gag and was trying to drag or pull the body under the bed. When he saw Fiona he stopped what he was doing and grinned at her.

"I wanted to surprise you." He said.

She grinned straight back at him. This was good, he was recovering, then her grin slipped as he went to stand up. It took him two attempts to get upright and he would of fallen again if she hadn't moved forward and supported him.

"The is no way out downstairs the are three of them in the room." She informed him as he sat on the bed.

"Fi, you have to go out of the window, someone will be checking on us soon."

"We'll go out of the window." She corrected.

"No. I'll slow you down." She went to interrupt. But he held up a hand to stop her. "They won't kill me, you need to let Sam know what's going on and I need to know who is coming after me."

She couldn't argue with his logic, as much as she hated it he was right. "What do you want us to do?" She asked.


	8. Chapter 8

.

Chapter 8,

6 a.m

"What do you want us to do?" Fiona asked.

"I need to know who has put the contract out on me. The only way I'm going to find out is to stay put. You and Sam just have to make sure they don't get me on the helicopter."

"Stop a Helicopter taking off without killing everybody on it, especially you. Just like that? You're not thinking clearly Michael." She made an attempt to pull him up. If she could, she would of dragged him to the window and thrown him out of it, to put an end this foolishness. He resisted pulling her back onto the bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist holding her still, he turned her face toward him, his hand on her cheek.

"It's the only way." He spoke softly, looking into her eyes trying to convince her to believe him. "If you don't go soon they'll find us and we'll be back where we were half an hour ago." He kissed her forehead. "Get the window open and I'll get the guard out front to change position." Letting her go, he slowly got to his feet, pleased that he didn't even waver. Doing his best to hide the fact his stomach was doing somersaults and if he didn't concentrate hard he would fallover. He headed out of the bedroom. Fiona watched him go.

Focusing on walking without falling over or throwing up, he made it along the corridor and into the bathroom. He picked up a small wooden chest of drawers, and threw it out of the window. At the sound of the shattering glass, Michael heard shouting downstairs and then the sound of heavy boots rushing up the stairs. He knew he had to keep them occupied as long as possible, he waited until the last possible moment then slammed the door shut and locked it.

Fiona dropped out of the window, and landed lightly on her feet. She stayed flattened against the wall until she saw the guard who was stationed outside the front of the house, suddenly run round the corner. Knowing that Michael had managed his part of the escape plan. She ran at top speed across the clearing heading for the most bushy area not far from where a man had lost his life earlier that morning.

She was expecting Sam to make some sort of sign to show her where he was, but the was nothing. Once out of sight from the house she headed over the rough ground avoiding the tripwires, only to discover her car missing. However Sam's was still sitting where he left it. She went over to try the door handle, but stopped just before touching it. He would not just of left it there for the bad guys to take. Backing away from it she took a moment to think about what he might of done.

It didn't take her long to spot the trap he had set. Some of her own C4, wired to a homemade trembler switch, any movement made by the car would set it off, even opening the door. She admired his handywork just not his timing at revealing this new skill. The car would have to wait, she decided. Deactivating the trembler switch would take time.

She needed weapons, and she needed them now if she was to be any help to Michael. With Sam running off with all of her toys. She turned her attention to the nearest grenade and the wire it was attached to it. She was going to have to undo some of Sam's hard work to arm herself.

.

The sound of a window smashing brought Pete and Quinn running up the stairs, guns drawn. As he passed the first bedroom, the one which had held Fiona. Quinn noticed his daughter was missing and then the chair wedging the wardrobe door shut, he quickly opened the door. He ripped the gag from his daughters mouth, and was reaching for the handcuffs when Pete shouted out that Westen and the woman were in the bathroom.

"I'll be back in a minute." He told her and ran from the room.

Pete was on the point of breaking through the bathroom door when Quinn arrived gun at the ready. The door gave way and they both burst in to find Michael sitting on the edge of the bath with his hands on his head and a smirk on his face.

"Get Honey and Brett free and then bring them downstairs. I'm gonna take care of this asshole." Pete snarled out the words. He threw Michael forward, towards the doorway. The sudden rough treatment made it hard to hide the last remaining effects of the drugs they had given him. He stumbled only stopping himself from falling by grabbing the door frame.

When Pete reached the door he pushed Michael towards the stairs. At the top step he had to stop himself throwing the prisoner to the bottom. Instead he dug his fingers into the back of Michael's neck and force marched him down the steps. At the bottom he kept his grip on Michael's neck and grabbed some of Quinn's cable ties securing Michaels hands behind his back. He then kicked Michael in the back of his knees so he fell to the ground. With the prisoner on the floor Pete stamped down on one of his ankles holding the leg trapped.

"I told you if you messed me about I'd shoot you in the foot." He pointed his handgun at Michael's vunerable bare foot.

"Pete! Stop for christsake I'm using up all my medical supplies keeping the others alive. And I don't need another patient."

Pete paused, the gun shaking in his hand. This man was costing him so much and it would be for nothing if he was dead when the man paying the contract turned up. He eventually lowered the gun but with an evil grin he brought his boot up then brought his heel down with all his weight onto the exposed ankle.

Michael did his best not to show the pain he was in. He didn't want to give the man the satisfaction. As the medic moved forward Pete pushed him back.

"Leave it. It's not going to effect his value and it'll definitely slow him down."

.

7.30 a.m

Sam stopped Fiona' car just before the track leading to where Michael and hopefully Fiona were being held hostage. As soon as the pickup came to a halt Seymour jumped from the cab and opened the back of his truck. He pulled out a bag holding four Mach 10s and at least two extra clips for each.

"Come on make youself useful." Seymour threw the bag at his bodyguard. Then he beamed at Sam. "So what do you fancy Sam, I've got a Barrett M82, with laser sight assist and thermal imaging." He held the rifle out to Sam like a demented Santa giving out presents.

" A client ordered it in special but died, a work related incident, you know how that goes?" He winked and handed a bemused Sam the Barrett rifle.

He reached back inside the pickup and pulled back a rug. Producing a Rocket Propelled Grenade Laucher. "And this baby is for me, badass or what?" He held out his new toy for Sam to see. He tossed another bag at the much put upon bodyguard. "Rocket grenades." He announced while running a hand up and down the RPG.

"Seymour." Sam cut through the arms dealer's enthusiam, "A RPG is a bit overkill don'tcha think?"

"C'mon Sam whenever have you been in a situation where you've said, wow I should of bought less guns. Never happened, am I right? And you said bring whatever I thought you'd need to take on a house full of bad guys. We gotta save Mike, right?"

He was saved from answering by Fiona walking up to meet them. "Sam, what's going on?" She spoke through gritted teeth disguised as a smile. Her eyes fixed on Seymour.

"Fiona baby. Hey, you got away. Where's Mike?" Seymour pushed in as he joined in the conversation. An arm over the shoulder of each of them. He looked from one to the other. "So do we have a plan?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9,

7 a.m,

Michael shuffled back until he could rest against a wall, his ankle was swollen up over double it's normal size, still it could of been worse. Pete had definitely made sure he couldn't run anywhere. He looked up at the medic who was checking a drip line on one of his patients. "Thank you." He said.

The man looked at him. "I didn't do it for you." He said. "You try anything else and I'll gladly let him kill you."

Michael didn't bother to reply, but took another look at his ankle. After a moment he asked "Could I have an icepack or a bandage."

The medic ignored him, so he turned his attention to the others. Realizing for the first time how much damage Sam and Fiona had caused. Two seriously wounded and unless his math was wrong the appeared to be another of the black tee shirt brigade missing. That wasn't including Brett and Honey who both had bruises and headaches. He could see and feel how nervous and tense the group was, it wouldn't take a lot to send them over the edge.

9 a.m,

Sam set up the Barret rifle on top of Seymour's pickup to watch the house. He loved that rifle, with the thermal imaging he could see everyone in the house, he could even make an educated guess as to which one was Michael. He noted two people upstairs by bedroom windows. Two more downstairs who were heading towards the front door, close by another was tending to what he guessed were the wounded, that left another sat on a chair and one on the floor, that was the one he figured was Michael. He watched as two of them stepped out from the house, he changed from the thermal image scope to a normal one to keep an eye on them.

"Sam, we have a -" Fiona was in the back of the pick up going through the supply of weapons with Seymour.

Sam cut her off. "Not now Fi, we need to stay down, and quiet they're scouting out the area. Checking out the landing site.I don't think they'll risk coming out this far. Now I've had a good look at the house, once they're back inside we can get set up"

"I wanted to talk to you about that." She told him. Keeping her voice low. She climbed outside to look up at him.

He didn't like the tone or the determined look on her face. He had seen both before, and it usually led to her getting her own way.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at her. Bracing himself to listen to a reckless amendment to his plan.

"I think we should go in and get Michael. The longer he is in there the bigger the risk that they'll kill him."

And there it was, he sighed. He hated this about the pair of them. One would rush off without a thought for their own safety, then the other would panic, and run headlong into saving them. It was one of the many circles of drama that made up their relationship.

"Fi, he wants to find out who set up the contract on him, so he needs to be there when they come to collect him." He explained.

"That's the point Sam, the paymaster might not turn up, or if he does, he may turn up with even more men or he could just decide to kill him on the spot. We need to be in there controlling the situation."

Damn it, she seemed to have a point. "So what do you want to do?" He asked.

"They only have three maybe four men in there who could give us a problem."

" The are six of them Fi. I've just been looking, remember?" He tipped his head at the rifle.

"I mean three or four who could give us trouble. We nearly out number them." There was that determined look again, daring him to disagree.

"Ok, How do you intend getting in there?" He wondered if she had plan, or was this going to be one of her go in all guns blazing and hope for the best ideas. "The is no way in the back, and they're watching the front." He pointed out.

"We keep them busy, firing on the front, and using that," She nodded at the specialized rifle. "We'll know exactly where they are which means a couple of us can go in through the side door and take control of the room." She smiled at him.

"Just like that?" Sam wasn't convinced. "Who is going to man the gun and who is going in?"

"I'll fire the gun, with the bodyguard backing me up, while you go in with Seymour, he is quite a good shot you know. He's been practicing." She tried to sound re-assuring.

Sam thought about it for a moment, the strategy was good, but the wasn't a lot of time to organize. Then the was Seymour, could he be trusted to not so much to follow orders, as remember them.

When he didn't answer straight away, "Sam," She smiled at him, "it's a good plan I'll be out here giving covering fire. Once you're inside I'll join you as quick as I can." She cajoled. "And when you free Michael, you'll have an extra set of hands anyway."

Sam knew he was beat, she would do it her own way regardless of what he said. He nodded agreement with one proviso, "Ok but Seymour leaves the RPG out here."

.

10 a.m

It wasn't until they were back inside the house that Pete felt safe even with snipers watching out from above. The was no sign of Sam Axe or Fiona Glenanne but he knew that didn't mean that they were gone.

"How much ammunition have we got for the rifles?" He asked Quinn.

His brother looked at the supplies, frowning. "What are you thinking about doing?"

"Lighting up the whole area, firing blind. We might drive them back, or even make them show themselves. Hell we might even manage to hit one of them."

Quinn continued to frown. "You don't honestly expect to hit them do you? The only thing it might do is drive 'em back long enough to get him into the helicopter." He looked over at Michael. "If we time it right."

"You know when I took this job, I thought it would be easy. Get him away, make it look like he'd left. What the hell went wrong?" He shook his head, none of them had slept much in the last thirty six hours.

"Not the time to be thinking about it Pete. We'll get set up, upstairs it will take all of us firing when the chopper is a few minutes away. Afterwards you'll have to have Westen ready to go out of the door straight away and be quick on the transfer. Make sure you get that money cos we're gonna need it to run."

Honey was ordered to watch Michael, she wasn't to go near him at all. If he moved she was to shoot him. She nodded her agreement she had learnt a very painful lesson from Fiona. She sat watching him the handgun on her lap.

Pete called the medic over to one side. "When this is over we're going to have to run. You know that means we might have to leave the wounded behind." He spoke quietly.

"What the hell happened to leave no man behind Pete?" He replied angrily. "I won't leave them."

"I don't like it, but we only have that old air boat and if we can't get to it we'll have to go on foot and we can't carry them. Besides, I don't know about the woman, Westen's girlfriend. But Axe, he'll see they get to a hospital and that's more than we can do."

"Even though they helped get his friend shipped off to-" He looked across at Michael. " Shipped off to god knows where." He changed his words.

"Sam wouldn't harm an injured man." Michael spoke loud enough for them to hear. "Just like he wouldn't trade a man's life for two million dollars."

Pete turned towards Michael and rapidly crossed the room to the prisoners side. He looked down at him and brought a foot back, but then stopped himself.

"Maybe he would if the man was a traitor to his country, I saw the file that's floating about. You sold secrets, planted bombs and did a whole lot of other nasty stuff probably for more money than we're getting." He spat the words out.

"You believe everything you read." Michael retorted. He had seen that file and knew how bad it made him look. Now it was being used by his enemies to set him up.

Pete's cell phone rang, accepting the call he didn't speak. After a moment he hung up grinning. "He's on his way." He turned away from Michael. " Honey. Remember to watch him real careful girl. The rest of you. Lets get started."

10.30 a.m

Fiona had climbed up onto of the pickup after the scouting party had headed back inside, she was spending her time acquainting herself with the weapon. she had been surprised when Sam had agreed to her plan so easily. She looked through the scope, watching Sam and Seymour move into position, she smiled at the thought of careful, methodical Sam trying to cope with the erratic arms dealer. Seymour's bodyguard was next to her with one of the other rifles. She changed over to the thermal imaging again it was nearly time to start the show. she tensed when she saw that most of the people inside were going upstairs.

She picked up the radio. "Sam something is going on. Hold until I say."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10,

.

10.30 a.m,

Fiona picked up the radio. "Sam, something is going on. Hold until I say."

She recognized when men were getting into firing positions, she spoke into the radio again. "Sam go now, the's only Michael and one other downstairs, the rest are in the bedrooms. Be quick."

She tucked the rifle butt into her shoulder and flicked the switch that operated the laser assist. She didn't want the men rushing downstairs she wanted them occupied and ignoring any sounds coming from below.

"Upstairs windows." She told Seymour's bodyguard, he nodded and gave her a smile. This is what he enjoyed about working for Seymour, yesterday he had been serving drinks at a private party attended by the elite of Miami's underworld. Today he was helping to storm a house full of armed men. He settled into position and they both opened fire.

.

When Pete had ordered all the men upstairs Michael had his first twinge of doubt, he hoped his friends were far enough back or very well dug in. He had not expected Pete to re-act the way he had. The seemed to be something almost personal in his attacks, but Michael was sure he had never seen the man before. He could hear gunfire now, some of it coming from outside. A movement in the kitchen caught his attention, his eyes widened as he spotted Sam Axe sneak through the door, following on his heels came Seymour. Only his years of training and experience stopped him choking when Seymour held a finger up to his lips and made a shhing motion.

Honey had noticed Michael's surprised expression and had been on the point of turning round when Sam grabbed her, holding her tight against his body and with a hand over her mouth. "Seymour!" He hissed.

Instead of helping him secure the woman, the arms dealer was going towards Mike. Seymour turned, realizing his mistake he reached Sam in a couple of strides. A big grin on his face. "Sorry man, just wanted to get Mike free. You know, an extra pair of hands." At least he kept his voice down. Sam thought, rolling his eyes.

"We need to tie her up. Get out the cable ties and duct tape." He patiently explained.

They had the girl secured, just as the firing from upstairs stopped. Sam turned towards the stairs, his rifle ready to return fire. Seymour finally got to cut through Michael's bonds, with his hands free Michael snatched a rifle off Seymour, and then told him to shut up and watch the girl and the wounded. Akwardly getting to his feet, Michael limped over to join his friend. Seymour watched him cross the room, barely able to put any weight on one leg. Then he turned his attention to his guarding duties, pushing his rifle barrel into the face of a terrified Honey.

"What the hell Sam?" Michael asked, his tone verging on anger.

"Fi's idea Mikey." He excused himself. He'd had a feeling Michael wouldn't take interference in his orders well.

"And Seymour?" Michael smiled, talking through gritted teeth. Sending a look towards the man in question.

"My fault, we needed more guns and his was the first number I found." He was saved from answering any more questions by movement coming from upstairs.

They were on either side of the staircase out of sight of anyone coming down. Michael held up one hand fingers splayed apart. Five men . Sam nodded he already knew that.

.

When they stopped firing, Fiona changed her aim and worked at keeping them away from the stairs, she was doing quite well until she heard the sound of rotar blades. They didn't have until mid-day, the helicopter was coming now. Before she had time to reach for the radio, it was overhead. She looked up, a man was hanging out with a rifle pointing straight at her. She dropped her gun and jumped off the pick up pushing the bodyguard away from her, she ran as fast as she could zig zagging, she hoped her companion had the same idea.

.

Both Michael and Sam could hear the helicopter outside and the staccato crack of automatic fire coming from it, but neither could do anything about it, as they were busy dealing with the men upstairs.

"You thought this is a better idea than you all staying outside, and just stopping them leaving with me?" Michael snapped as he fired up the stairs.

"Take it up with Fi." Sam replied.

Hearing her name made Michael look towards the door that led outside. "Seymour! Leave the girl, get to a window see what you can do about that helicopter." He shouted. Then instead of firing up the stairs he had another idea. While Sam continued to do just that, Michael changed position and began to fire up through the ceiling into wooden floor where he hoped the men were standing.

Bullets coming up through the floor made the men retreat away from the stairs. The only sound for a few minutes was the firing from outside and a helicopter circling the property. Downstairs both Michael and Sam were changing the magazines in their rifles. Michael looked towards the nearest window, worry plain to see on his face.

"You shouldn't of come in Sam, you should of laid low and let me find out who's after me."

"Yeah, and the boss man comes in and shoots you. How does that help?" Came Sam's angry reply. He was beginning to feel unappreciated.

Michael raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, but didn't get a chance to reply, as several shots came through the ceiling. Ducking down Michael picked a couple of wooden splinters out of his arm while waiting for a break in the firing.

"Hey Pete, you keep this up I'll move your wounded so you won't know if your gonna hit them or not and how about your niece? Aren't you worried about her?"

"You're not that much of a bastard Westen." Pete shouted back down.

"Remember, you read my file. You know exactly what I'm capable of." He bluffed. "Come down with your hands up or I'll shoot the girl." He pulled the tape off her mouth, he pushed the barrel of his gun against her side and cocked the weapon, Honey let out a scream of fear.

"Westen! stop it now." It was Quinn's voice, and by the sound of it he had no doubts about Michael's character.

"Throw your guns down the stairs, and then come down with your hands in the air one at a time." Michael ordered.

"You gonna shoot us?" Pete wanted to know.

"It's alright, I won't let him." Sam replied. Giving Michael a questioning glance.

Once they had control of the house. Seymour was given the job of watching the prisoners, which he appeared to be taking very seriously going by the way he held his rifle pointing it at each of the men in turn.

Sam insisted on wrapping Michael's ankle with a bandage, before they checked out what was happening outside. The helicopter had landed, three men were now stood next to it, one of them had hold of Fiona. She was barely able to stand as blood ran freely down her side.

"Jesus Mikey, do you know who that is?" Sam asked, he was already pushing keys on his cell phone.

"No." Michael replied, his eyes were fixed on Fiona. He forced himself to study the man Sam was staring at. "No, Who is he?"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11,

10.30 a.m

The pilot flew in high over the edge of the Everglades. Sitting next to him, his employer for the day told him to circle round, while the two heavily armed men sitting behind him looked out of the windows. One of them pointed out an isolated house, looking down, the pilot could see two figures lying on a truck firing towards the house while two others were creeping into the building from another direction.

He was told to drop down low as quickly and as close to the truck as possible. He heard the helicopter doors being opened and the clicks of the fully automatic rifles the men were carrying being cocked.

As the first shot was fired the woman jumped from the truck pushing her companion in the opposite direction. The pilot did as ordered and followed the woman maneuvering to give the men the best view of their target.

He saw that the chase was over when the was a spray of blood and she stumbled losing control over her legs she fell, rolling several feet before lying motionless. He glanced over and saw a faint smile play across his employers face.

"Find a landing spot, not to close to the house." He spoke with a crisp English accent.

Landing in the clearing near to where the woman had fallen, the pilot switched off the engine as his passengers disembarked. After a quick look around he pulled out an old paper back novel that he kept for these occasions and started to read. He was paid to fly and nothing else. Whatever his clients were up to, was none of his business.

11 a.m,

"Jesus Mikey, do you know who that is?" Sam asked, he was already pushing keys on his cell phone.

"No." Michael replied, his eyes were fixed on Fiona. He forced himself to study the man Sam had been staring at so intently. A man of what looked like Middle Eastern origin, in his sixties, with thick almost completely grey hair, dressed in an expensive suit.

"No, who is he?" When he got no answer, he glanced back at his friend and tried again.

"Sam!" He raised his voice, speaking sharply. His friend held up a hand signalling him to wait.

Michael was becoming more and more frustrated, he seemed to be the only one who had absolutely no idea what was going on. Sam now had his back to him, talking in a low tone. He looked over to where Pete and Quinn sat, but decided not to go over there. He didn't trust himself to remain calm.

So, wincing in pain he hobbled closer to the window, looking out he noticed Fiona seemed even weaker than she had a few moments ago. He brought up his rifle to look through the scope so he could take a closer look.

Her head hung down, blood matted her hair and covered the side of her face, he couldn't tell if the damage was from a bullet or not. The was more blood on her top and down her left leg. Her knees sagged and by the way one shoulder was being pulled upward by the man holding onto her, it was obvious she was only upright because of his tight grip on to her arm. Changing his angle Michael turned his attention to the men.

They were grouped together talking. He lined up the sights on each one of their heads in turn, deciding on his order of fire, his finger caressed the trigger. It would be so easy.

He jerked his head back, taking his eye away from the scope. Yes, he could kill them all, but not fast enough to stop one of them killing Fiona. He wiped a hand across his face. It was only then he realized Sam was talking to him.

"Mike! Hey, Mikey!" Sam called. He had finished the phone call, to find his friend aiming a rifle out of the window. He sighed with relief when the rifle barrel dropped and Michael backed off. "I need a word. Now."

Michael scowled, he needed more than a word. He limped over to where Sam stood. "Who the hell is that guy?" He demanded, using his rifle barrel to point towards the window, he'd had enough of being kept in the dark.

" His name's Tariq Martouk. A money man for several Middle Eastern terror groups, he's on more watch lists than you are. He shouldn't even be over here. What the hell did you do to him?" Sam asked.

"I've never seen him before Sam, all I know is, I've apparently pissed him off." He had a name, but it meant nothing to him. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking back to his time in the Middle east. But he had nothing.

"Come on Mike, I know over the years you've upset a hell of a lot of people. But this guy. He's pretty unforgettable. I was on a team that tried to extract him years ago. It did not go well. He is a real nasty piece of work."

"I'm going to have to go out there." He could think of no other way to get the answers he needed. "I'll trade myself for Fi-" He began to turn away.

"Sorry Mike you can't do that." Sam spoke quietly, but firmly. He put a hand out onto Michael's shoulder.

He didn't reply, Michael just ducked his shoulder and continued to move away.

"The is a task force on it's way. Our orders are to keep him here until they arrive. If you go out there, he'll get what he wants and leave." Sam raised his voice slightly.

Michael stopped and looked back, expression guarded. "Fi is hurt. If we wait she could die." He started to move away again.

"Mike! You can't go out there" Sam took a firmer hold on the younger man's shoulder and almost pulled him off his feet.

"Let go off me Sam, I'm not going to let Fiona die for me." The was a hint of anger in his tone now.

"Yeah, well I'd like to try and keep you both alive." Sam answered. He pushed Michael back into a chair, something which under normal circumstances he wouldn't of been able to do. But with everything he had been through Michael didn't have the strength to resist.

"Sit. We need to think this through." Sam ordered. "You're not thinking clearly, when did you last eat or drink?" He got no reply, just a glare.

Looking across to where Seymour was watching the prisoners. Sam called out. "Seymour, go check what food and drink the is in the kitchen. I'll keep watch."

Seymour headed for the kitchen, a worried frown passed over his features as he glanced outside. Fiona was in plain sight, but where was his bodyguard? He frequently called him a Jackass, but the man had been with him for longer than any other employee. In fact the missing man was probably the closest he had to a real friend.

Sam, gave Michael a look that told him to stay put. Then he made his way over to where the captives sat on the floor. He knelt down to check on the wounded men, both seemed at least to be stable. As he went to stand up he thought he heard a faint buzzing noise. He paused, cocking his head slightly, realizing it was a cell phone he could hear.

"Where is it?" He asked.

"Left hand pocket on my jacket." Pete replied.

Sam pulled the phone out and held it so Michael could see. "Ok." He muttered. "Here we go." And he pressed the answer key.

.

A/N: Ok I've given you a who, next chapter will be the why. Promise not to keep you waiting too long.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12,

"Hello" Sam spoke into the phone.

"I want to speak to my contact. Put him on now." The words were spoken with a clear English accent.

"He's a little tied up now. Can I help you?" Sam put up a hand holding Michael at bay, turning slightly to stop him grabbing the phone.

"No. Put him on or I kill the woman." Sam heard the click of a handgun being cocked.

"Hold on." Sam looked at Pete. Then he muted the phone. "He wants to speak to you. You'll be on loud speaker." He then turned to Michael. "I know you're stressed right now Mike. But please, keep your mouth shut." He held the phone out for Pete.

"Mr Martouk, glad you could turn up." He said.

"I expect to see you out here in five minutes with Michael Westen in hand cuffs. Otherwise I am going to shoot this woman and take my money away. Good day." He hung up before anyone could reply.

For a moment the was silence as they digested the words. Then Michael threw his rifle over to Sam, who caught it on instinct.

"Mike, what are you doing?" He asked, though he had a very good idea what was coming.

"Getting Fiona back." Michael replied. "Give me your knife."

Sam didn't move. "You don't have to do this Mike, we can think of something."

"Not in five minutes we can't." Michael held out his hand, palm up.

Sam still didn't hand over the blade Michael requested. "Mikey, he might not let Fiona go. Then it's b-"

"The knife Sam!" Michael demanded this time. "The is no other choice. I'll delay him as along as I can. Please." The last word was a request.

Sighing, Sam handed over his combat knife. Michael pulled Pete to his feet, but didn't free him just yet.

"This is the deal. Sam is going to keep a watch on all your friends here. You collect your money and Fiona. When you get back here Fiona, Sam and Seymour will all leave. And they will promise not to retaliate. Do we have a deal?"

Pete smiled this was better than he could of hoped for. "Sure." He agreed. He felt the ties around his wrists being cut free.

"Mike, before you go out there I want a word." Sam really wasn't happy about this but could not come up with a single idea that didn't involve Fiona taking a bullet. The only hope was that Michael could stall long enough for the FBI to turn up.

"Seymour." Michael called out to the arms dealer. "Watch him." He nodded at Pete.

Sam took Michael around by the stairs, out of sight of the mercenary. "Put your foot up here." He patted the second stair. Michael gave him a quizzical look then obeyed. After unwrapping part of the bandage he placed Fiona's compact handgun against his leg and then re-wrapped the injury. He then pulled out one of his lock picks. "Put that in your pocket."

Back in the main part of the room, Sam slipped a set of handcuffs onto Michael's wrist, doing them up fairly loosely. Enough so he should find using the lock pick easy.

Handing Pete an empty hand gun, Sam opened the front door and stepped aside. Michael went through the door limping even heavier than before. Determined to cause as much delay as he could.

.

Tariq Martouk took his first look at Michael Westen in the flesh. It had taken him three years to get this close, the had been other attempts, but the man appeared to have a guardian angel. The first group he had sent, had simply disappeared. The second had turned up, or rather parts of them had, with a note telling him to back off or it wouldn't be body parts dropped from an aircraft into his compound next time. So he had been more careful, he had done more research. The CIA dossier on Westen had been expensive to get hold of, but very helpful. Especially when he found a man with the right skills and a reason for revenge. He had also moved home to a more secure compound, under a no fly zone.

As he waited impatiently for them to approach he took note of the severe limp and all the bruises, that was good. He had several customers already who were willing to pay him hansomely to interrogate the spy, he only wanted to watch him suffer and in the end carry out the death sentence that he had already passed.

.

"You know he's going to kill you, don't you?" Pete asked.

"What do you care." Michael replied. "Or are you having second thoughts." He flashed a faint smile.

"Nope, no second thoughts." Pete returned the smile. "Just surprised really. You giving up this easy for a woman. Not what I was expecting from you."

"I told you that file you've seen, it was fake. They pinned a load of stuff on me I didn't do."

"Doesn't matter now does it?" They were nearly there now.

He stared at Fiona who was still hanging limply in the guard's grip. The bleeding had stopped, at least that was something. Michael thought.

He was pushed forward by Pete and gasped as pain shot through his injured ankle. He bit his lip determined not to make another sound.

"You got my money?" Pete asked.

"Certainly." Martouk kicked a metal case across the ground. Pete dropped to check the contents. Looking up after a few moments with a smile on his face.

"And the woman?" He queried, standing up with the case in one hand, he extended the other.

"Of course." Martouk nodded to the man holding her up. The man stepped forward dragging her along and then just short of where Pete stood he let go, pushing her forward.

Fiona hit the ground hard, Pete acted without thinking and bent down to pull her up. He had the money and his thoughts were on getting back. As he reached down, just touching her arm he felt a pain like nothing he had ever felt before, his legs collasped under him and then his breathing stuttered and stopped. The man who had let go of Fiona now held a knife in his hand. A knife that had just severed Pete's spinal cord.

The other guard stepped forward and grabbed hold of Michael by his arm and kicked him down on to his knees. He was kneeling in the dirt witnessing Pete's death throes, and wishing Fiona would at least open her eyes,as she lay underneath the dying man.

.

Sam stood at the window watching his friend limp across the clearing with the mercenary following close behind. His eyes narrowed as the money was handed over, he didn't know what it was, maybe the way the men were standing. He took a quick look at Pete's older brother and went over and pulled him to his feet.

"How well do you know Martouk?" He asked.

"Not well." Quinn replied cautiously. He had served during the Gulf war and had known Martouk was on the most wanted list. But two million was a lot of money for a little work. He was nearing sixty and was tired of chasing down bail jumpers.

He looked out the window and could see nothing wrong. "What's up?"

"Something's wrong." As Sam said those words, Pete toppled to the ground, falling on top of Fiona. One of Martouk's men stood there with blood dripping from a long bladed knife.

"Shit." Sam cursed softly.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13,

11.30 a.m,

Fiona had been coming in and out of consciousness throughout her time as a captive. She knew enough to stay totally passive until she saw a chance to escape. They obivously thought her incapable of putting up a fight as they hadn't tied her up. To be honest, she thought they were probably correct. Her head was throbbing and the had been so much blood, that as it dried, it plastered her long hair to the side of her face. The whole of her left leg felt heavy and useless, she had been allowing the man holding her to support most her weight. That was why when she was suddenly released her leg collasped, sending pain coursing through her whole body. She fell to the ground and shortly afterwards she was almost crushed by a weight falling on top of her. The mixture of pain and shock forced her to become fully aware.

She thought she saw Michael kneeling before her, his face full of worry, looking like hell. She glanced up and could just make out another man, smiling grimly, she could see his lips moving but couldn't make out his words and realized her hearing was compromised. Then pain, terrible pain ripped through her injured leg as she was dragged free of the weight that had held her down. She groaned, and saw Michael's eyes widen. She tried to smile, the weight that had been on her had held a gun. A gun that she now had in her hand. He looked a little sad and turned away from her. Then he fell backwards and curled into a ball as he was viciously attacked.

.

Michael knelt in the dirt witnessing Pete's death throes, and wishing Fiona would at least open her eyes,as she lay underneath the dying man.

"Kill the woman." Martouk smiled.

Michael tensed as the man with the knife grabbed hold of Fiona's leg and started to pull her clear of Pete's body. The guard that stood over him, gripped his shoulder forcing him to stay still, fingers digging in to his flesh. He knew he had to do something to stop what was about to happen. He heard her groan and could see her eyes were now open, was she smiling? Even though she was staring straight at him, he turned away and looked at Martouk.

"Why?" Michael asked. Trying to take the attention off Fiona. "What did I do to you?"

The words stopped Fiona's execution, as the guard froze to watch what happened next. Michael got more of a response than he was expecting. A knee came up under his chin sending him flying backwards, he couldn't help but cry out as the movement finished off the earlier assault on his ankle as it was twisted back and snapped.

"What. You. Did. To. Me?" Each word was punctuated by a hard kick to Michael's ribs. "You killed my sons. You sold information for a favour. You got them killed them for ," He broke off almost spitting with fury.

The years of waiting for this moment sending him insane. "I believe." He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair, he was shaking with emotion, looking down on the man curled into a ball at his feet.

He spoke calmly, hatred dripping from each word. "I believe it was for." He delivered another kick this one harder than the rest. "A fruit basket." His shoe caught Michael on the shoulder. Knocking him flat on his back.

He was in agony, his body was battered but he knew this was probably his only chance. Probably Fiona's only chance. He had managed to get the gun that had been hidden in his bandage, into his hand, a hand that was shaking from pain and fatigue.

.

Quinn watched his brother fall to the ground, his fists clenched behind his back. He turned his eyes towards Sam, who was still staring out of the window, waiting to see if his friends were about to suffer the same fate.

"Let me go and I'll save your friends, I can get a kill shot from here." He offered, his voice grim.

Sam looked at him, a quick glance only. "I was an Army Ranger, a sniper. I can get them all." Quinn told him. Trying to convince him. "Just let me go and I'll kill them all."

Sam continued to watch, as the man who had killed Pete grabbed hold of Fiona's leg and start to pull her out from under the mercenary's body. He thought he saw her move her head and look around but couldn't be sure.

"Are you listening to me?" Quinn shouted. Causing Sam to look away from his friends for a moment.

"I'm listening, just wait a moment will ya." Sam turned back to the window in time to see Michael knocked over onto the ground and roll into a ball as the attacker then continued the assault. It was no good, Mikey was not going to be able to get himself out of this, he would need help.

"Martouk needs to be alive if possible." He'd seen enough, he cut Quinn's restraints. "Apart from that go to town."

Quinn immediately ran for the stairs, he needed an upstairs window and his hunting rifle. Sam took one more look outside to see Michael receiving a kick that sent him flat onto his back.

"Seymour watch the rest of them I'm going upstairs."

.

Fiona was bringing her hand up, she had released the safety and cocked the gun, she planned to shoot the man above her then take care of the man attacking Michael. Her vision was blurred because of the blood that caked to her face and a headache that was making her nauseous. She thought this might be their only hope. The was a deafening crash, and the man above her was lifted up, and then he came down on top of her knocking the air from her body. Pete's empty gun flew from her hand and she blacked out.

.

Michael brought the gun up, his hand was shaking so badly from the pain radiating equally from his ankle and his ribs he struggled to aim correctly. He was scared that today was the day that he would not be able to save them all. Had he finally done what he feared the most, and caused Fiona's death. He heard the crash and felt a wave of heat, he saw Martouk fly through the air his limbs flailing wildly. At the same moment the guard who had stood over Fiona fell, almost cut in two. A piece of flying metal then struck him a glancing blow and he fell back stunned wondering what had happened.

.

Quinn grabbed up his hunting rifle, from where he had hidden it. The was no way he would throw it down the stairs. He didn't care who ordered him to, so he had hidden it, and hoped they wouldn't come up and search.

He was at the window, feeding in cartridges, as he studied the men he was going to kill. He had the gun up, aiming at the target, checking the sights as Sam Axe barrelled into the room.

"Remember we need Martouk alive." He huffed. Hoping the man would obey the order.

Quinn didn't reply, he had Martouk in his sights and his finger on the trigger, he slowed his breathing preparing to take the shot. He was gone, Martouk's body moved faster than was natural.

He had been concentrating so hard on the kill shot, the flash of flames shooting into the air and the loud crash had barely registered.

The two men surveyed the damage, still trying to digest what had happened. The helicopter was gone, just a burning heap of metal remained. The pilot had to be dead, Martouk was slowly, crawling along the ground, his upper body bloody. The guard who had been standing nearest, who had been about to kill Fiona was definitely gone, lying under him Fiona was unmoving. Michael lay flat on his back, then slowly rolled onto his side making a feeble attempt to crawl towards Fiona. The other guard was lying in his way, struggling to rise, the back of his suit jacket smoking.

Quinn let his rifle barrel drop, and turned to stare at Sam. "What the hell is going on?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14,

.

Fiona's eyes flew open. She wasn't dead, she was sure she had been shot. She tried to move, and felt blood run down her side, she couldn't free herself. On the edge of panic, she took a deep breath, calming herself. The was someone on top of her, it was his blood that ran over her. Using all her strength she tried to move the body but it wouldn't budge. She could make out Michael lying on his back, eyes open but unseeing. The handcuffs were still in place, a gun still clenched in his hand. The man in charge, she never got his name was crawling away, his other bodyguard was coming round making moaning noises. He was only a foot or so away from Michael's gun. She kept trying to get herself free, she didn't have enough air in her lungs to shout a warning.

.

Michael was concentrating on breathing, his ribs and stomach were hurting with every breath. He turned onto his side trying to see what had happened to Fiona. He could barely make her out, he tried to push back the thought that he had got her killed. A movement caught his eye as a hand made a grab for his gun, he fired on instinct.

.

"What the hell!" Quinn gasped, as he surveyed the damage.

Pieces of smouldering helicopter were strewn all over the front of his house. Six bodies lay amongst the wreckage, most of them bloody. Not all of them moving.

Sam shook himself, a feeling of dread sending him running for the stairs. "We need to get out there now!" He didn't wait to see if he was being followed.

"I have a medic with me." Quinn ran after him. "Let him go. He can help."

"Did you see that?" Seymour enthused. His eyes wide, he threw his arms apart. "Kaboom!" He grinned at Sam, then turned to Quinn. "What have you got up there?"

"Seymour, shut up." Sam growled. "It wasn't us. We need to find out whose out there." He handed Quinn a knife to cut his people free.

A shot rang out. For a second everybody froze expecting more gunfire. None came. "Ok let's go." Sam opened the door.

.

Fiona stared over at Michael, the shot had broken through to her protective instincts. "Michael!" The word came out as a croak. She kept struggling to move until a hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Steady there Fi, let me look you over." It was Sam and Seymour, they moved the body off her, and tried to keep her still.

"Michael." She said again, worried that neither he or the bodyguard had moved since the shot was fired.

Michael came round as a hand touched his throat. He raised the gun pressing the barrel against the forehead of the figure above him.

Quinn stared into red rimmed unfocussed eyes. "Sam. Mind telling your friend here we're on the same side?"

"Mikey, how are ya doing buddy?" He called out. "Let the nice man help you." Quinn breathed a sigh of relief as Michael's shackled arms dropped down and his eyes shut.

"How is he?" Sam asked.

"Alive, lots of bruises, that ankle is well and truly busted now. How about Pete, he dead?" He already knew the answer, but had to ask.

He quickly looked over at Pete, grimacing at the wound in his back. "Sorry, if it's any consolation it would have been quick."

He turned back to Fiona. "See Mike's gonna be fine. Let's get you both back inside. The Fed's will be here soon." He carefully picked her up, trying not to listen to the language coming from her mouth.

Seymour let out a yell, then stood mouth opening, and shutting several times as if he was doing an imitation of a fish. He pointed to behind the burnt out helicopter, a big grin plastered his face. Sam looked to see what Seymour was creating about, and he nearly dropped Fiona onto the ground.

Walking towards them, the RPG balanced on his shoulder was Seymour's bodyguard. As he got closer he began to explain. He spoke in a rush.

"Sorry it took so long it took ages to find the rocket launcher and Seymour man you'd moved the manual. Then by the time I found it and worked out the set up, Mike and Fi were in the way. But when they went down I figured I should just shoot-" He stopped as Seymour grabbed the him into a big hug. On releasing him he gave him a hard slap on the back. "Badass or what man. You, are getting a pay rise. We get back-"

Seymour stopped, something suddenly registered, he turned to Sam a horrified look on his face. "Feds? You called the Feds?"

"Hey, international criminal, with connections to terrorism. They're not going to care about you." Sam pointed out. He looked down on Martouk who lay cable tied on the ground as he spoke.

"I have a reputation Sam. If it gets out I've been seen with FBI-"

"Seymour. Look where we are. Who is going to see you?" He started walking to the house, Fiona cradled in his arms.

.

As soon as he placed her down, the medic got straight to work on assessing Fiona's injuries. Sam moved away, hoping to be able to catch a breath. But it seemed his friend had other ideas.

"Sam!" It was Michael, frustration very plain in his voice.

"For crying out loud." This was from Quinn. "See if you can get him to sit still? I'm going to bring my brother's body inside and check on Martouk."

"So where doesn't it hurt?" Sam joked. Taking a seat facing his friend, hoping to distract him.

"Funny Sam," Michael managed to groan. He looked around the room, his eyes settling on Fiona. "How is she?"

" She's gotta nasty head wound, and her left leg is injured, also it looks like a bullet grazed her side, she'll be fine. How about you?"

"I'll live." Was the short reply. "Get me over to her."

"That medic of Quinn's is taking care of her, we'll be in the way Mike."

Standing up, balancing on one leg. "I don't trust him. Why aren't you looking after her?" He demanded.

Sam knew the was no point arguing, an injured Michael was basically a pain in the ass. So with a sigh he slipped his shoulder under Michael's arm to support him and picked up a chair in the other hand. He placed the chair on the righthand side of the table, hoping it would be out of the way. Then dropped Michael down on the chair.

"Happy?" Sam asked.

"Estatic." Came the sarcastic reply. "So what happened?" He had managed to lace his fingers with Fiona's, gently squeezing her hand.

"Seymour's bodyguard saved the day. I'm gonna have to find out his name. Buy him a drink or three as soon as we get home."

"Martouk?"

"He's outside, ready for the Fed's to swoop up and save the day. What did you say to him. He nearly killed you on the spot."

Michael ran a hand over his eyes. "Remember Fi's Libyan friend? Helped me put the screws to Cowan? Well I gave him a piece of intelligence, of no interest to our side." He added hurriedly. "But it mattered to the Libyans, pointed them in the right direction to close a terror cell that had blown an oil pipeline and killed a lot of people."

"Martouk involved?"

"His kids."

"Ah." Was Sam's only comment.

Once Fiona was patched up as well as could be done on a kitchen table. The medic turned to Michael.

"Can I look at your injuries now?"

Michael gave him a toothy smile, which didn't reach his eyes. "As long as you don't try to stick me with anything." He stayed as still as he could while he was poked and prodded. Wishing that Sam hadn't taken the gun off him when he removed the handcuffs, as his ankle was examined.

"Any chance you two could go to hospital when the FBI turn up?" The medic wanted to know.

Michael shook his head. He had no intention of being interviewed by the FBI over his involvement with Martouk. Fiona was probably still on a couple of most wanted lists and even if she wasn't, she had no legal right to be in the country.

"Ok I'll strap your ankle and ribs up. She's definitely got a concussion, I've cleaned and glued the head wound and you should have her hip X-rayed. Apart from that they both need rest." He aimed the last part at Sam. Privately adding, Good luck with that.

.

"Helicopter coming in and a whole load of SUVs!" The shout came from upstairs.

Sam was on his feet. "Shit." He had his phone to his ear. He made the call just in time as the SUVs came to a stop. He had nearly blown up a FBI strikeforce with a load of highly illegal grenades.

"O.k, I'm going to try and run some damage control. Mike, you, Fi and Seymour need to be out of sight."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15,

.

12.30 p.m,

Sam stepped outside as the helicopter landed, eight heavily armed men in full combat gear jumped out, assault rifles at the ready. He continued to walk over, a smile on his face and his hands held well away from his body. He pointed to where Martouk lay outside the house.

"There's your guy." He stopped, facing the man in charge of this particular tactical response team.

Two of the commando types went over and gave the prisoner a quick examination then picked him up and carried him to the helicopter. As soon as they had him on board it took off.

"The road is mined? Why didn't you mention that before we started to come in?" This man was no nonsense, his rifle held in a seemingly relaxed manner, was pointed straight at Sam's belly. The other men were covering the house.

"Sorry, in all the excitement we forgot. It was part of the plan to keep him here." Sam was having to wing this, he had to keep it near enough to the truth to be believed.

"Really." The man replied dryly. He was scanning the house, the vehicles and then the helicopter. Noticing the damage done and guessing from experience how many and what types of weapons had caused that damage.

His sweep of the scene told him he was dealing with a lot of suspects with a lot of automatic weapons. "How many people are in there?" He asked, nodding towards the house.

Sam hesitated.

"It's not a difficult question Axe, and if you're trying to protect Michael Westen, forget about it. As soon as you called, we checked in on him."

Sam glanced at the house, "Two seriously wounded plus nine others, two are women one of them is wounded as well." He came clean, this was a specialized team, here to take Martouk into custody and to clear the area for the counter terrorist agents. As long as he didn't lose their trust he might be able to make a deal.

They watched as one of the others shouted out orders to those inside the house. After a moment the door opened and they began to come out slowly, unarmed, hands in the air. The was five of them kneeling in the dirt wrists in handcuffs.

Sam received a hard look. "You want to tell your friends to come out? Or do we go in?"

"Mike!" Sam called out. "You need to come out now." He turned to the man at his side. "He's wounded, so is the woman it may take some time."

.

At Sam's shout, Seymour rushed to peer nervously out of the window. "The is a Goddamn strike force out there Mike." He hissed. "Is this what I get for helping you?"

"Calm down." Michael stood up, wincing in pain. "They are just clearing the way for the suits, Sam will be able to cut a deal with them." He gave the gun dealer his best reassuring smile. "Now help me get down the stairs."

.

Michael came through the door, supported by a very tense looking Seymour. Behind them came Fiona leaning heavily on the bodyguards arm.

Michael was seperated from the others and pushed to the ground. He grunted in pain and glared up at the man who handcuffed his hands behind his back. A rifle barrel inches off his back kept him from moving.

"He has a broken ankle and busted ribs. I don't think he's going to give you much trouble." Sam commented.

"Orders. He shouldn't be here at all." Another report was coming in as the man went silent again. "We're finding a lot of highly illegal weapons, ammunition and explosives in the house and apparently in the cars out near the road. Any comment?"

"Would you believe it all belonged to Martouk?" He answered. "I tell ya the guy put up a hell of a fight." The SUVs were pulling up.

"Uh huh, blew up his own helicopter along with mining the only other way out and shooting up all the other vehicles. Sounds perfectly reasonable." The man knew his part of the mission was as good as over. All he had left to do was make his report and corral the prisoners until their status was confirmed.

.

The was six agents in total, they split into teams. Two inspecting the haul of weapons found in the house, another two interviewing the prisoners. Two others came straight over to where Sam stood.

"I am Special Agent Lukas this is my partner Special Agent Cooper, thank you for your co-operation in this matter Mr Axe." The man was already dismissing him, he was running his eyes over the prisoners, stopping when he reached Michael. "Mr Westen you are a little out of your permitted radius."

"I thought for Tariq Martouk I might be forgiven." Michael replied, trying to look unconcerned.

Agent Lukas gave a twitch of the lips that might of been a smile. He nodded to a couple of the commando types, "Go put Mr Westen into our car we'll see he gets home."

Fiona opened her mouth to speak, but caught Sam's head shake. She closed her mouth, angry words unsaid. Sam called out. "Agent Lukas, could I have a word please."

This was when Sam was at his best, certainly Michael had plenty of charm and could manipulate people into doing what he wanted. But Sam could do it without the thinly veiled threats and generally he stayed friends with the people he used, they were happy to help, they were his buddies. Besides he was good old Sam Axe, if you needed something he always knew how to get it for you.

He always said it was his special talent, he frequently knew exactly what you needed, before you even knew it yourself. It worked with his friends, his assets and with his lady friends.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16,

2.30 p.m

Sam had excelled himself, he had managed to talk FBI Special Agents Lukas and Cooper out of arresting them all on the spot. It had not been an easy sell, the fact that they had nearly been blown up on their way in had hardened the Agents opinion on the whole group. However he had pointed out they had a man high up on the most wanted list in custody, and a little bit of danger had to be expected when partaking in such an arrest. He reasoned they they had all been very co-operative and some of them were ex military, some even Special Forces. All this got him the wounded airlifted to hospital, and the rest of them released. The last part only for now, they were to make sure they were available for questioning later.

He had watched as they left, taking Michael with them. But he wasn't worried, Michael was a big boy he would get himself out of whatever they tried to blame on him. He could feel Fiona's eyes boring into the back of head. He knew he was facing a tongue lashing for not getting Michael released and for the loss of her car and all her guns and explosives.

Fiona's silent anger, was far better than Seymour's paraniod rantings, that had started as soon as the Feds had driven away. He didn't stint on letting everyone know exactly how he felt about having Fed's crawling over his truck, taking away all his weapons. _Did Sam realize how much money he had lost? _Then the was the fact that he was expecting to get home to find the ATF infesting his house. He had moved over to the corner of the room and started making phone calls, moving stock, closing bank accounts and arranging a very long holiday abroad. Every now and then he looked outside to glare at the forensic team that were scouring the ground for evidence.

.

Michael was quite enjoying his trip back to Miami, admittedly he would of preferred not to be in handcuffs but the SUV was roomy and comfortable and he had the whole back seat to himself. The two Agents were keeping to themselves, which cheered him up no end as it allowed him to rest his head back and close his eyes for a very welcome nap.

.

3 p.m,

Quinn, his family and two remaining mercenaries were packing up. They had kept it very quiet, but Sam knew they had taken Martouk's two million. He waited until Quinn was on his own and went over pulling a chair out in front of the other man blocking him in.

"This has been quite a good pay day for you, hasn't it?" Sam smiled. Not wanting to start trouble, they were all to beat up for that. Adrenaline could only stay in the body for so long, eventually you had to crash.

"You don't think we earned the money?" Quinn pulled up a chair of his own. He too was feeling the strain of the day, he had just watched his brother taken away in a body bag.

"I'd like to make sure you're not thinking about earning any more?"

"The only thing I'm thinking about is a trip out of the country. The Feds are going to have more questions for us once they start their interrogation. Probably better if we're long gone by then." He was curious about one thing. "You seem like a good guy. How come you're so loyal to someone like him."

Sam's expression hardened. "What is it, you think Mike does?"

"Look I get it, his your friend. But I can't understand why? Martouk had a copy of the burn notice, he had the CIA file. I'm surprised that they let him live."

Sam looked down at his feet, that damn file again. "It's lies, somebody wanted him for a job, didn't want him to have any choice but to take it."

"He was in St. Petersburg in '94?"

Sam nodded and then waited, the had to more to the story, he knew Mike had been in Russia throughout '94, some of it in St. Petersburg.

"The was evidence in that file that he sold information about an operation in Odessa. Pete was on that op, three of his team died."

"I don't know why Mike was there, but I do know he is a patriot, every job he has done has never been about the money. I don't care what a file says he would not of done that."

Quinn nodded, not quite ready to believe it, but ready to let it go. He got to his feet, "We probably only have a small window of escape before the Feds want more answers." He held out his hand. "Good bye." Sam shook the hand and then watched them leave. A friend of Brett's was waiting up on the main road.

Fiona sat, with her legs up on a sofa while leaning back on a couple of cushions. She moved her legs further back so Sam could sit on the edge.

"You know he'll be all right don't you?" He said, carefully checking her head wound.

"He's always all right." She answered, "but you could of at least asked them to release him."

"No point, and you know it. Now how are we getting back?"

"Seymour has a driver on his way over. He's said he'll take us home." She smirked. "You're going to have listen to Seymour complaining all the way back to Miami."

.

6.30 p.m,

The journey back to Miami had been very relaxing for Michael, by the time he was taken into the field office he was well rested. After a cursory medical examination he was taken through to an interrogation room and left handcuffed to the table. He was expecting a long wait as they would want to check all the other statements before taking a run at him. Before he was left alone he asked about getting something to eat.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17,

8.30 p.m

Madeline was waiting at her door when Seymour's SUV pulled up on the the drive. She gasped when she saw Fiona, her hair still matted with blood, bruising beginning to come through on her face and hanging onto Sam's arm as she almost hopped up the steps. As the car left the drive and sped off down the street Madeline shut the front door and ushered Fi over to the sofa. Sam's earlier phone call hadn't prepared her for Fiona's injuries and he had been even more vague about Michael's whereabouts.

"Explain again." She glared at the pair of them. "Where exactly is my son?"

Sam carefully backed towards the kitchen door, one of his hands snaked round and found the keys for the Charger. With the keys in his hand and the door to the outside open, he gave her a re-assuring smile.

"Michael is safe Maddie. Just like we told you on the phone. The FBI just want a little chat, I'm sure he'll be home soon." He was out of the door and in the Charger before she had a chance to stop him.

"Michael was the one kidnapped. Why the hell do they need to - Sam! Sam get back-" He left the driveway at speed. Letting out a sigh of relief.

An hour later, after a shower and a change of clothes, he sat down to enjoy a meal at Carlito's trying to get the sound of Seymours voice out of his head. Two hours and six mojitos later, he met a divorced lady called Sheila who had just arrived in Miami and was planning on staying for a month.

.

6.30 a.m

They held Michael until the following morning, after leaving him in the interrogation room for a couple of hours they had moved him to a cell. At six thirty a disgruntled Special Agent Lukas had opened the cell door and told him they had been instructed to let him go.

Michael gave the man a suspicious look and made no effort to move. "Instructed by who?"

"My boss has told me to turn you loose. So lets get moving." Came the angry reply. Lukas was one of a growing band of Miami based Agents who were becoming increasingly concerned about the activities of the ex-spy. Each time an investigation was started, an order would come down the line. Back-off. Simple, direct and if ignored followed up by a new assignment, often in the records department of some remote office.

So he found himself sat in the foyer of the field office, trying to decide what to do. He had no money on him, and he wouldn't be able to get up the stairs to his loft anyway. He tried to call Sam but his phone just went straight to voicemail. He sucked on his lip, Fi wasn't fit to drive. He didn't even know where she was staying, though he could guess. He buried his head in his hands, that left his Mother. Realizing the was no other option, he pressed the button on his speed dial.

Madeline was _thrilled_ to pick her son up from the FBI field office. She was so _glad_ he wasn't _dead_, or being _tortured_ in some faraway country. She told him as they drove back to the house. He kept quiet letting it all go over his head. The was no point trying to explain, that it wasn't his idea of fun to be locked in a cell overnight. Besides he had other things on his mind.

Madeline pulled up on the drive and went to open the front door, watching how he struggled to walk. She knew better than to try and help him. Instead she kept an eye on him incase he fell and held the door open so he could go straight inside. Once in she nodded towards his old room.

"Fiona is asleep in there, my guess is she'll want to know you're back safe. She's been worried sick." Madeline sniffed. "I think you better have a shower first though, and later I'll run you both up to the emergency room."

He went to complain, but the look on her face stopped him. Instead he moved slowly towards the bathroom.

"Michael." He looked over and then took the bin liner off her along with a roll of tape. "Keep your leg dry, and don't slip over."

.

7.30 a.m

"Fi?" He whispered quietly, as he shut the bedroom door. She stirred but her eyes stayed shut. As quietly as he could he made it over to his chest of drawers and found some pyjama bottoms. Sitting on the edge of the bed as gently as he could, he slipped the towel from around his waist and changed. Lifting up the covers he crept into bed. He tried to stay as far over one side as he could, but as soon as he settled under the covers she dropped an arm over his stomach, then her head moved to rest on his chest. She looked up at him smiling.

"Good morning. I see they let you go, did they say why?"

"Only they were instructed to, whatever that means." He stroked her arm. "How are you? Headache going?"

"I'll be fine Michael." She snuggled against him, only easing back when he gave a sharp intake breath. "Ribs sore?"

He nodded, then turned her face up so he could see her eyes. He had first planned on waiting until after having a sleep before speaking to her about what had happened. But as he had lain down next to her, and felt her breath on his neck he knew he couldn't wait. "Fi, I nearly got you killed yesterday."

Her hand came up to his cheek, her thumb caressing his lips. Stopping his words. "If the next words out of your mouth tell me it's to dangerous for us to be together. I may have to hurt you. A lot."

She paused, letting him make a choice. He gripped her thumb with his lips for a second, then moved his head very slightly. "No," He back tracked. "I was going to say I'll try not to do it again."

She smiled and snuggled back down, closing her eyes. "Thank you, Michael." She whispered. Sighing he looked up at the ceiling, hoping he would be able to keep his word.

.

A/N: I forgot to put a disclaimer at the start of this story so here it is. I don't own burn notice or any of the shows characters.

Thank you to everyone who has read my story, put it on their alert or favourites list and a special thanks to all those who have posted reviews.


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